Thomas S. Monson Vision and Others As Well

By Nicole Hilton, June 4th, 2018

            Last night, after we had three sets of people from different central American countries over for dinner and I drove one of them home (D—I tried to help him also with his suicidal feelings), I still felt depressed as I sat downstairs in my rocking chair. Mom sat there next to me. I said,

            “I just want to leave. I’ve never ever healed here. I’ve only gotten worse. Why am I back here?”

            Mom came to my side and knelt down. “Did you ever think that I need you here?”   

            I raised my eyes to meet hers. I didn’t want to start crying, but I started to. Really? I thought. Could this be?

            “Nicole, I know I’ve helped you so much…but you’ve helped me just as much as I’ve helped you.”

            How? I just take and take and take. Does my mom really need me here? Do I have anything to contribute?

            We stared into each other’s eyes and it was a sweet and tender moment for us. I tried to believe her—I wanted to believe her.

I went to bed with a mixture of prayer, hope, and sadness in my heart, still very much confused about which path I should take, what my purpose is, and plagued with feelings of depression throughout my whole body.

            Then, President Thomas S. Monson came to me in a vision at 4 AM. The dream/vision seemed to be more of my version of true reality than this world has ever been.

            I was upstairs in my old bedroom—the one with all the clouds painted on the walls. There was a bed in the room and it felt like the safest room in the house for me. I think that’s why Heavenly Father chose it as the scene for this experience.

            I was reading my scriptures and suddenly, there was President Monson, who has just passed away some months ago! I started up to my feet, surprised. He smiled at me as if to say, Well, why are you surprised?

          I felt like I was still 29 years old, but also like a little child. I oscillated between the two states of being and stood there excitedly, wringing my hands in a childlike fashion, stepping from one foot to the other.

            “Oh, dear President Monson!” I said. I ran over in front of him and looked up at his kind wrinkled eyes, then we hugged. I was surprised and absolutely delighted. “Well, I’ll just sit down here…” he said, sitting upon the hardwood floor up against the wall.

            “What? Are you sure? Please, come sit on the bed! What about…?” I was going to say, your old bones, but then I blushed and I didn’t.

            “Oh, don’t worry about me,” he said. I think he knew exactly what I was about to say, and he found it funny.

            He seemed to enjoy sitting on the floor. I ran around the room, gathering up every pillow I could, and I stuffed them behind his back and under his knees as respectfully as I could. Since pondering on this, I realized that he sat on the floor because I normally like to sit on the floor…and he knew it.

This was no ordinary dream…it was a full-blown vision. I could tell that he was way more than a figment of my imagination. His great spirit filled the room and I felt so happy. Later, reading in How to Receive Your Second Comforter, this passage perfectly explained the experience: “With the spiritual eyes, in vision, they [your angelic visitor] will be glorious and brilliant, but you will feel comfortable in their presence. You will know it is a real experience, because the clarity and fluidity of thought and communication will be sublime, invigorating, and sacred.”

             I knew the Holy Ghost was directing this vision and I was, indeed, meeting with a prophet of God. What a guest of honor! Here in my own bedroom! And to think…for some reason I feel perfectly at ease in his presence! I was shocked that I didn’t feel at all shameful or uneasy in the presence of this great man. I was especially surprised that Heavenly Father had sent him, because I never really had had a strong connection with him as a prophet. I had followed him as best as I could, and I appreciated him, but I hadn’t felt the same for him as I had felt for President Hinckley when I was growing up.

            Yet, my small testimony grew greater moment by moment while he sat there before me, until it grew into a sure knowledge—this was one of God’s prophets for the latter days.

            I sat on my bed, nervously at first—yet still delighted he was here. He started talking to me in his kind story-like manner. He asked me a lot of questions. Questions like, “How are things at the DI?” and, “Are you worried about the volcanoes and earthquakes in Hawaii and South America?” I replied that working at the DI was very hard sometimes for me, but that I was grateful for the friends I’ve been able to make there and people I’ve been able to help, and that I wasn’t worried at all about the devastating volcanoes but that I hoped the tribulations would come quickly. I chatted away about wanting to live in the terrestrial world.

            He chatted away, too. He was everything a kind and considerate grandparent should be. I knew he knew everything about me—he’d been briefed on my life and sent here by the Savior Himself to chat with me. I knew this through and through. I was delighted that I was getting the kind of attention I have so longed for and desired in the past couple of weeks. I was thrilled to be talking to someone I knew I could trust completely. I knew that this man could, indeed, speak for Christ and that I could be myself with him. There was no pretense—no falseness or hiding as I sat there with him. I felt a huge burden being lifted off of me. I realized that here was a man in front of my very eyes that I could be 100% genuine with. No one—none of my mentors even—had earned that kind of trust with me.

            I reflected later on why that is. Why do I feel so out of place in this world with all its people—even the ones who have the kindest hearts and intentions? I realized… it is because I don’t trust a single human being completely. They haven’t seen my life or really known what I’ve been through. Yet I knew, looking into President Monson’s kind face, that he had. And I wanted him to—I wanted him to read me like a book. I felt I had nothing to hide and everything had been forgiven by my Savior. Here was evidence right before my eyes.

            He put me perfectly at ease with his easy going and amiable manner. I wish I could remember our whole conversation. He spoke about deep things of the heart—things I yearned to speak about but hadn’t been quite able to express to others in the world.

            Then, he quoted something to me (I wish I could remember what he said). I was sitting on the bed with my hands on my knees. “Do you know which section of the Doctrine and Covenants that’s in?” I gripped my knees tightly—oh no! A test! I blurted out the first thing that came into my mind: “D&C 88?”

            “That’s good. You remembered!” He laughed a bit. He knew and understood about my memory problem! He smiled and then I rushed to get my scriptures and we studied, I believe, verses 11-13 together.

            After thinking about this part of the vision, I realized that it was an assurance from God to me about my memory. There is no way normally I could have recalled a chapter or verse from the scriptures—though I’ve tried to memorize them many, many times. Here was clear evidence that everything I have learned was still there, being kept safe by Jesus Christ and accessible with the Holy Ghost’s assistance.

            “Actually, I think that the whole of Section 88 would be good for you to study,” he suggested. I took him very seriously and I said that I would study it, and take it personally to heart.

            He said so many kind things to me, and complimented me. He was informed and open to talking about anything I wanted to talk about. He understood.

            Soon, almost crying, I couldn’t help but join him on the floor and embrace him. He held me for the longest time, and I cried with joy. I felt like a child in his arms—like his most beloved granddaughter. I finally knew this man was a prophet from God! And Jesus Christ had sent him here to comfort me and instruct me!

            Soon we held each other at arms length and just looked at each other with pure love and adoration for each other.

            He had been speaking to me for about 10-15 minutes—much longer than any previous heavenly visitor I remember experiencing (except for Christ in the jail cell). I assumed that he’d be there forever—or for a few more hours at the very least! I got up and turned to call my mom or my brother Daniel to come and meet the prophet, but then when I turned back to the wall, he was gone.

            I woke, or came out of the vision, at 4 am, the sacred hour when the veil is the thinnest.

            It took time to reorient myself in this realm. I had just been physically cuddled by President Monson as if I were his two year old grandchild! For about a minute I didn’t realize I was alone in my bed in 2018. I was soaking up so much love from the other side of the veil and I was basking in it.

            I then realized I’d had a sacred dreamalthough, really, I think it was traveling to an actual place or dimension prepared for my spirit, to meet President Monson. I realized that I needed to record it before it faded away. Already, specific bits of our conversation were fading fast from my memory. I recorded the dream or vision as best I could and then I read D&C 88.

            I felt the spirit deeply when I read about being a part of the Church of the Firstborn…I had the spirit testify to me that those first verses held meaning for me—especially when I was working out the next day. I still didn’t really believe it. I also felt Jesus Christ teaching me about the light which is in my eyes, and urging me to increase in His light. I marveled that I had seen God moving in His majesty and power. I knew that the day was going to come when I shall be able to comprehend God and be “quickened” by Him. I felt a personal charge from Christ to “labor in the field”. I knew that I needed to continue to seek, ask, and find Jesus Christ…and that He would reveal Himself to me in my own “season”. I learned about how to pray better. I was charged to continue in the prayers and fasting I had been doing, and to not be weary or give up.

Prepare to magnify your calling whereunto I have called you, and the mission with which I have commissioned you.

            Not many days hence, the earth shall tremble and real to and fro.

            Above all else, clothe yourself with the bond of charity. Pray always. I come quickly.

            I felt that night and all through the next day that I had received a divine commission. But, for what? To be a missionary at the DI? To write? To move to Farmington, or to stay here and try to heal at home? To be a missionary for my ancestors on the other side of the veil? To get my second comforter—again? What?

Even though I was still confused, I went through the day as if I was walking on air. I didn’t want to stop having these experiences. I don’t. I want to get to the point A— is at—to have visions and to be that close to God every single night. To receive that kind of comfort daily. I don’t want these experiences to be few and far between ever again.

            After pondering this some more, I watched a video online entitled President Thomas S. Monson: On the Lord’s Errand. Emphasized again and again was the fact that President Monson was always known for ministering to the one. He was pure charity and genuine love. At the end of the video, I felt to write down a quote which answered part of my question of what my divine commission is.

            “We read in Proverbs the admonition, ponder the path of thy feet. As we do, we will have the faith—even the desire—to walk the path which Jesus walked. The Savior’s example provides a framework for everything that we do, and His words provide an unfailing guide. His path will take us safely home.” His words stirred my soul. I felt the spirit saying, there are always reasons I send specific people to you. I sent Joseph Smith to you to teach you about temple prisons. I sent Enoch to you for very specific reasons, and because his weakness and your weakness of feeling unloved, unwanted, and unable to speak were the same. I now send Thomas S. Monson to you because he was in the business of writing, reading, and being on the Lord’s Errand and administering to The One. Study the lives of these great men, and you will be led along the sure path back into my presence in this life.

            I have, both before and after this vision, studied the words and lives of Joseph Smith, Enoch, and President Monson. I will continue to do so, and I also look forward to further study of D&C 88. I was surprised to find out that the “Olive Leaf” section of the Doctrine and Covenants was the very same one in my study with Lynn’s group of the “40 Points of Sanctification”.

            A few days later, after sending Teri Stephens an excited message about Thomas S. Monson visiting me, she surprised me further by telling me that WINGS, the healing modality she uses, was developed around D&C 88, and that there is a WINGS training at the end of this month! I go to see her on Friday, and she has invited me to do Theta Healing on her in exchange for an hour long massage and WINGS session. I will talk to her about taking her course then, though I can’t imagine how I will afford it. That’s never stopped you before, has it? The Spirit says. It’s amazing how the Lord leads me.

            Further dreams happened that night after my vision of President Monson. They were sweet and very vivid, but didn’t have quite the same “flavor” as the Monson vision. It was like I was getting glimpses of the future, but through a dark glass.

            In the first one, I was sitting on a beach somewhere with very beautiful people around my age sitting along with me. We were talking and laughing. They were not LDS, but very in tune with Spirit/Love and meditation—new age type people. I mentioned that I was Mormon and they were shocked. Then, to my great surprise, after talking some more, a beautiful girl and (I think) her boyfriend both volunteered readily to come to church with me. There was no having to convince them or do traditional missionary work with them…they recognized my light, they had been prepared, and they were ready.

            The dream was so sweet and I wanted to stay in it, however someone was tapping me—tap tap tap!—on my collarbone trying to wake me up. I didn’t want to wake, yet I finally did in frustration. I woke, inception-like, to find myself in yet another dream/possible future event.

            I was laying down staring up into my brother Daniel’s face.

            “Welcome to the 1800’s!!!” he cried, joyfully.


            I sprang to my feet. I was surrounded with 6 or so men and women, including my brother, and they were all beautiful and young. They laughed at my surprise, and briefed me on what was happening. We were in a Victorian-style house, in the parlor, awaiting a family to come home. I’m not sure if we were ministering angels, if we were translated, or if this occurred before my lifetime right now and I was remembering this, or we were sent back during the 1,000 years of peace to minister to this family. I’m thinking it was the latter.

            “Just whisper whatever the Spirit tells you to in their ears. We are going to help them with—“ and then one of the people told me the family’s problems. These other angels felt like they were my family.

            We all understood each other, and my memory slowly came back. These were my best friends and family in the whole world! I was so loved by them! I was on a mission, and I had a divine purpose! I was needed!

            I gazed into a mirror, and I saw the same beautiful Nicole that I saw in my vision of the cave. I was thin, with perfect skin, and long wavy hair which had a chestnut and blonde hue.

            The family came home—a mother, father, and their sick son—and I tried my best. I stumbled over many things and I was very awkward.

            One of the angels was a great singer. He started to sing truths to them. I had a feeling that, in another dimension, there were Satan’s angels trying to sway the family to their side, and we were providing the opposition to that. I was delighted to realize that we all had distinct gifts in waging this war against the adversary, and that I had gifts to offer as well!

            I eventually got my bearings, and my voice came back! I started to remember how to sing pure frequencies and intelligence into the air, and my voice was ringing with purity and light. I sang to the family, and the mother started to become aware of me because she was more in-tune than the other humans.

            I can’t remember much of the dream, but I know we helped them.

            After the family left the parlor—and I believe their son had been healed, the mother turned around and said, “this is for the awkward goddess who has been singing in my ear all day,” and she set a golden pin shaped like a rose upon a seat.

            They closed the front door, and it was truly like a party in there. We celebrated with much laughter and hugs all around. Daniel was prancing around being entirely silly, glorying in our accomplishment. Daniel, the other angels, and I were so filled with bliss and pure joy, which comes from accomplishing a great work and bringing souls back to God and a better state of peace and health.

            We knew our current assignment was over, and we were going to go back to wherever we came from. I picked up the pin.

            “Can I keep this?”

            The leader of our group smiled. “She gave it to you, didn’t she?”

            I tucked it into a pocket. I had the sense that I had a home I was going back to, and many treasures such as this, which were the beautiful trophies of jobs well done. Then the vision ended.

Published by Nicole Marie Hilton

Hi, I'm Nicole. I suffer from amnesia and multiple personalities caused by childhood trauma and a gauntlet of spiritual Satanic abuse. Professionals refer to this as Dissociative Identity Disorder and Satanic Ritual Abuse (DID/SRA). The wounds and evil programming from DID/SRA create a continuing cycle of spiritual, emotional, mental, and social destruction for the victim and their loved ones. Most professional therapists misdiagnose or misunderstand it and do more harm than good. Healing requires plunging the very depths of Christ's atonement for the victims and their loved ones. The process exposes Satan's methods and Christ's power, and this knowledge is essential to anyone seeking to ascend above this mortality. This is the story of my wounding and my ongoing healing with my Savior Jesus Christ.

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